


a cat, a bathtub, and an angel

by Sintharius



Series: Sergei Alekseyevich Dragunov [4]
Category: Tekken
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 20:23:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20784563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sintharius/pseuds/Sintharius
Summary: Dragunov really needs to make sure to close the door.





	a cat, a bathtub, and an angel

**Author's Note:**

> Derping around with a silly idea at 1 AM. :3

Dragunov is tired.

And soaked to the bone, but mostly tired.

He never complains about having to do missions in unfavorable conditions, but it doesn’t mean that he liked them. After hours of slogging through snow to track down an escaped convict, he’s just done and ready to get back to the warmth and comfort of his home, away from the clusterfuck that was the mission.

Times like this, he’s glad he keeps a few spare sets of his uniform on base. Having to drive home in soaked clothes didn’t sound too appealing.

Medical checks him out – aside from a few bruises he’s otherwise fine, but they weren’t going to take chances after that one incident and rumors had it that the department still had jitters over it. He was sent home with instructions to ice the bruises and to take it easy the next few days.

He could use a break, some food and companionship. God willing, he needs those to keep himself sane in his line of work like everyone else.

Dragunov finally relaxes as he eases himself into his car and starts driving.

The guard at the gate waves as his car speeds out of base and into the road.

***

When his father opens the door, the man’s face wrinkles in a way that Dragunov recognizes as sympathy. “_You must be freezing. Come on in._”

He steps inside, glad to be away from the freezing Russian winter.

The warmth of his home is different from base, with the choking body odor of crowded buildings replaced with the soothing scent of burning firewood and dried flowers. The winter chill starts to fade as the heat sinks into his skin, and he strips off his coat and boots before leaving them at the door.

Dragunov sits down on the couch just as a bundle of fur makes its way into his lap and starts swatting at him for attention. He affectionately rubs the cat’s head and she purrs in contentment.

“_Anya’s been angry at me after you left this morning._”

His cat barely tolerates his father. She would act nice if Dragunov is around, but the moment he leaves she turns into a ball of furry terror – even to his only family. He has tried and socialize her to other people, but she seems hell bent on imitating her master at being an antisocial monster. And he’s fine with that as long as she doesn’t use his father as a scratching post.

He doesn’t blame her for being clingy to him. She was a surrendered pet; he had picked her up after her previous owner had to give her to a shelter, citing her own pregnancy as the reason to give up her cats. The volunteers had expected to be able to rehome her quickly, but she ended up waiting for months – due to no one wanting to shoulder the costs of owning an expensive breed cat - before she was eventually adopted by a Spetsnaz agent visiting the shelter. Now she rules the house of said agent, plus his father whom he roped into taking care of her.

In some ways, she reminds him of himself as a child. Scared and angry, clinging to the one person that showed them kindness and unwilling to let go.

“_I hope she didn’t scratch you up too bad.”_

_“I’m okay, she didn’t let me touch her.” _His father pokes out from the kitchen, a knife in hand. “_Dinner won’t be ready for another hour or so. You should go get cleaned up... maybe take a bath. That weather must’ve been hard for you.”_

Huh. He has some time to kill, and he’s aching all over and doused ankle deep in snow.

A long, nice soak with warm water sounds good.

Anya meows back at him when he gently lifts her off his lap, clearly annoyed at him depriving her of contact. Though she quickly jumps back on the couch and curls up where he was sitting, taking advantage of the warmth and forgetting the reason she got angry in the first place.

His lips curved into a smile as he leaves to get the water running.

She’ll be fine for an hour or so without him... he hopes.

***

He can’t remember when was the last time he got a break.

The last time he got time to sit down and relax properly was... several weeks ago? Between the missions Spetsnaz sent him on and the pile of paperwork resulting from said missions, he had practically no time for a proper break. Not that he minds - being idle in one place for too long never quite sit well with him, and it’s the main reason why he chose this lifestyle - though a break now and then helps keep him stable and happy.

Right now, he’s enjoying the warm water and lavender scented soap in the confines of the bathtub. Dragunov leans back and closes his eyes, feeling the heat sweeping into his aching muscles and easing away the soreness from slogging through the thick snow. Several scented candles are burning away on the side, smelling of flowers and some sort of earthy scent that he loves.

It’s comfortable, calming, and just so perfect-

-until a quiet meow catches his attention.

He opens his eyes to Anya sitting on the edge of the sink and watching him.

The bathroom door’s slightly ajar. He wonders if he forgot to close it all the way in his haste to get a bath since forever, and mentally kicks himself for being so forgetful. At least it’s just his father and his cat, and neither of them really cares about seeing him naked.

Said cat hops down to the floor and creeps closer to her master, seemingly interested in inspecting whatever he is doing.

Dragunov is torn between wanting to get her to leave, and to let her stay. Anya doesn’t mind water; she’s a Turkish Van, and he had made sure to accustom her to regular baths as part of her life with him. Though it’s not the water he is worried about. He isn’t sure if all the things he used are safe for pets, and he would hate an emergency visit to the vet if she does end up sick-

A cat-shaped shadow casts itself over his face, resolves into a fluffy form staring down at him from the edge of the bathtub – when did he close his eyes again? – blue eyes intent on tracking his every move.

Dragunov decides to get her off the bathtub if she will not stay in a safe spot. He sits up from where he was lying down, the water surface rippling with the movement-

-only to see the cat coiling herself up, seemingly entranced by the sight of the moving water.

He reaches out to grab her, stop her from jumping in-

-and is met with a face full of water as a very big and very fluffy object impacts violently with the water surface.

His eyes are stinging from the soapy water and he’s pretty sure some of it got up his nose, but he’s far more focused in the creature flailing violently in the almost-full bathtub. He needs to get her out as soon as possible, before she does any more damage to herself.

_The life of a cat owner._

***

His father has been cooking dinner in the kitchen when he hears a very loud water splashing noise.

What follows is a noise he could only describe as being a cross between a drowning person and a cat in heat.

_That_ gets him straight to the bathroom, where his son has been for the better part of an hour. If Anya somehow managed to get herself into trouble again while Dragunov is away, he’s never going to live it down-

-and he’s met with the sight of Dragunov, naked and dripping on the bathroom floor with soap bubbles in his hair. The aforementioned cat is bundled up in a towel in his son’s arms, and her fur is also soaked with water. She is hissing and trying to claw at her owner to no avail.

Dragunov doesn’t say anything - or have any expression on his face other than his standard resting bitch face - but he can take a wild guess on what happened. And it wasn't pretty.

“…_Want me to drive her to the vet_?”

***

The vet cleared Anya after showering her off, the lavender in the soap apparently not too big of a concern. Though he was given instructions to come back with her if she shows any symptoms.

When he gets home with the cat, Dragunov is sitting at the dining table, having finished and got dressed sometime after his father left. He silently takes the carrier from his father and puts her to bed, before sitting back down.

They would have finished dinner already if it wasn’t for this fiasco with his cat, and he knows he’s responsible for the late meal. He needs to apologize.

“_…I’m sorry._”

His father shrugs. “_It’s okay, Sergei. Accidents happen._” The man takes his own seat next to his son, and begins to take a portion for himself. “_Just remember to close the door next time?_”

He doesn’t answer. Just a faint, but gentle, smile.

His father pats him on the head in response.

***

Since then, Anya has stopped trying to jump into the bathtub.

Even when it’s empty.

It makes the task of washing her a little harder… but he can live with that.

If it means she will be happy.

**Author's Note:**

> Visit me on [Tumblr](https://sintharius.tumblr.com/) :3


End file.
